Ours
by Misgiving Writer
Summary: Mosspool's heart will forever be his, even if no one approves. Even if her own father, the leader of her Clan, doesn't approve. She will never change her mind because, if nothing else, he is hers.


A/N: Am I on a roll, or what? I think this is the fourth story published just today! And all of them are for the Warriors Challenge Forum (link is in my profile, please check it out). This one is written for Mosspool, a fellow forum member, and is to the song Ours by Taylor Swift.

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_"Look at that,_' someone whispers, and Mosspool has to try hard not to look in their direction. '_do you see that? She's just walking around, like nothing is wrong!"_

_"Disgusting_," someone else spits, and that is a voice that the she-cat recognizes. Flamestep. The tom that had been her mentor for seven long moons.

The realization hurts. The fact that even he, a cat who always promised to be by her side, now despises her...it sends a pang of her hurt through her and, against her will, a lump forms in her throat. But she doesn't run, not now. Not from them. She refuses to. Instead, she takes her time crossing the clearing and selecting her piece of prey from the Fresh Kill pile.

"Move it!" Willowshade, a fellow warrior, hisses at her. The dark grey she-cat raises her hackles, reaching out with one paw and swiping the mouse away from Mosspool.

Distraught, she takes an unsteady step backwards. "W-willowshade!"

The other she-cat pulls her upper lip back into a snarl, baring her fangs. "I said, _move it_! Traitors like you don't deserve this prey!"

"That's a lie, Willowshade, and you know it!" Mosspool protests, tail lashing behind her. "I'm not a traitor and I haven't done anything wrong."

"Nothing wrong? Really?" Willowshade's voice is mocking, her words poisonous. She tilts her head to the side slightly and narrows her dark green eyes at her. "So you don't think that what you've done is wrong? Amazing. You're more of a mousebrain then I thought!"

Behind the duo, someone lets out a snort of laughter. It takes all of Mosspool's strength not to spin around and see who. The only reason she doesn't is because, in her mind, that is telling them that what they do _does_ bother her. And she can't let them realize that, not now. Not when she still has to live with them.

Instead, the tabby merely gives a slow shake of her head and walks away.

_"Look at her,'_ someone behind her sneers, and Mosspool wonders whether they're even trying to keep their voice down. _'she's so pathetic._"

No, Mosspool doesn't run. But she wants to.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"Maybe we shouldn't do this anymore." Harewhisker mutters, and his voice is quiet, his gaze withdrawn. Nothing more than a shell of the vibrant tom that he once was, the one that Mosspool fell in love with.

Said she-cat can't help but jerk her gaze from the night sky to the tawny furred tom-cat. "What? What do you mean, maybe we shouldn't?"

There's fear in her voice, and hurt flashes across her mate's amber gaze. "No, no! It's not that I want to, Mosspool! No, I love you and I just, I just don't want to see you get hurt because of this. So...Maybe it would be for the best if we stopped seeing each other."

Mosspool scrambles to her paws, ears flat against her skull, and shakes her head. She cannot believe that he would say something like that. For a long moment, panic consumes her and she doesn't know what to say. What can she say to that? Anything? Nothing? She doesn't know.

She does know that the thought of living without her WindClan tom is unbearable.

"No!" Mosspool finally chokes out, and she shakes her head again. "I don't care what they think! I don't care what they say! They're wrong. I...I love you, Harewhisker, I love everything about you and I don't care what they say! My heart is yours, for as long as you'll have it."

Another lapse of silence - and Mosspool wonders if she's too late, if Harewhisker has already decided that this will be the last time that they meet. Then a purr tumbles from the tom and he pushes himself to his paws.

They meet half-way, muzzles resting on the others shoulder.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"Mosspool!" Tumblebreeze calls out, and his voice is deep and serious.

The grey pelted she-cat looks up at the deputy, pauses for a moment, and then rises to ehr paws. "Yes, Tumblebreeze?"

Hard blue eyes. White tipped ears pricked forwards, brown tail lashing. Anger coming off of him in waves, disgust clear in his voice. It seems, Mosspool finally decides, that even ThunderClan's deputy is not immune to ill-decided thoughts going through the Clan.

"Wildstar wants to see you. Now." His words are crisp, sharp, demanding - and Tumblebreeze must just assume she wouldn't dare _not_ listen to him, because he doesn't wait around to see if she goes to their leader's den. Just turns and walks off, heading towards a small cluster of cats near the camp's exit.

Border patrol, she realizes longingly. For a moment, Mosspool watches the assembled cats. When was the last time she was allowed on such an outing? One, no, almost two moons ago now. Not since the Clan found out about her relationship with WindClan's deputy.

Too long - because just the thought of running along her border, leaping over roots and ducking under branches, chasing a squirrle or stalking a mouse, just the thought sends a chill down her spine. Her paws itch. Her ears twitch, and she can practically _hear_ the forest calling to her.

But she doesn't run. Not from them, not now. Instead, she turns and starts the walk to her father's den.

_"Look at that,'_ Redclaw whispers,_ 'Wildstar's finally going to do something about her!"_

A purr from someone else and then,_ "It's taken long enough. You know that if it were anyone else, he would have called them in the moment he heard!"_

They're her Clan-mates and it isn't right but, for a moment, Mosspool feels nothing but hate for them. Who are they, to judge her? To act as though they knew her? Knew him? They are no one! They have no right! Acting as though they know...As though they had heard his soft murmurs on stormy nights, as though they had seen how he helped her past her mother's death.

_Fox-hearted fools_, she finally decides_, they aren't anything more than that._

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"It's not your right!" Mosspool yowls, and the look of surprise on her fathers face brings a jolt of satisfaction. "You have no right, Wildstar! None!"

Unfortunately, the surprise doesn't last long. Anger quickly replaces the confusion in his eyes, and Wildstar raises his hackles. "I have every right, Mosspool! As your leader and your father, I _can_ tell you whether you are allowed to see Harewhisker. And you aren't."

So many arguements whisk through the young she-cats mind. So many things that she could say, so many ways she could counter the elder warrior. None will work their way to her maw though, and in the end she says nothing. Just stares at him with hurt in her eyes and hate in her heart.

"It's for the best, Mosspool. He's in another Clan, after all." Wildstar mutters softly, and he tries to drape his on the she-cats shoulders.

Mosspool doesn't let her. She backs away from the tom, shaking her head. "No! It's not your choice, you don't get to decide whether it's right or wrong! It's right, I know that it's right!"

Then, she turns and she runs. From her father. From her Clan-mates. From the cats who have decided to hate her, though they have no reason for it.

Her heart belongs to Harewhisker, and there is nothing they can do about it.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"Don't you worry, Mosspool." Harewhisker says, burrowing his muzzle into the soft fur of his mates shoulder. "They can't take what's ours."

Mosspool says nothing, just presses closer to the light-pelted tom. She takes in a deep breath, the scent of gorse and wind and honey filling her nose, and _knows_.

This? This is right. This is theirs.


End file.
